He's All My Exercise, My Mirth, My

To Wilful Men, The Injuries That They Themselves Procure Must Be Their Schoolmasters.

Sir Andrew Ague-cheek: I'll Stay A Month Longer. I Am A Fellow O' The Strangest Mind I' The World; I Delight In Masques And Revels Sometimes Altogether (he's An Oddity In That He Enjoys Having Fun)

Care For Us! True, Indeed! They Ne'er Cared For Us Yet: Suffer Us To Famish, And Their Storehouses Crammed With Grain; Make Edicts For Usury, To Support Usurers; Repeal Daily Any Wholesome Act Established Against The Rich, And Provide More Piercing Statutes Daily To Chain Up And Restrain The Poor. If The Wars Eat Us Not Up, They Will; And There's All The Love They Bear Us.

Thanks, Sir; All The Rest Is Mute.

Violent Fires Soon Burn Out Themselves, Small Showers Last Long, But Sudden Storms Are Short; He Tires Betimes That Spurs Too Fast.